’ Gerald grinned. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. ” “In his present mood,” Anna remarked, “he would follow me. "I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Mr.
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